


The Beginning

by eclipsedheart



Category: Westworld (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 18:10:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18155273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eclipsedheart/pseuds/eclipsedheart
Summary: Theresa's first day at the job, unexpected potential embarrassment, and the emerging hero.





	The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like writing a little something about the beginning of what's between Bernard and Theresa. I thought that for all Theresa's foul-mouthed toughness, she would still fall pretty hard for the "knight in shining armour"-thing. Especially if her being weak in any way becomes a secret between the two of them. 
> 
> Anyway. I've been struggling with things in real life, as well as writer's block, and things are still very busy, but I'll try to get back to writing/posting again soon enough. :)

 

* * *

_I want to see the procedure when the hosts come in for repairs and memory wiping, I said. I have to know all parts of the process in order to properly do my job, I said. What am I, a fucking idiot?_

Theresa had viewed it in very academic terms – damaged hosts come in, get the needed repairs, their software is updated, they're sent back out – but now that the hosts came back in after this loop, she saw the raw reality. It would be easy to sit in her office several floors up and call the hosts 'things' brought in for 'repairs'. It was a very different thing to actually _see_ it.

She hadn't considered the blood. There was so much blood. The sight of it always made her feel lightheaded and queasy, and she wasn't prepared. It didn't matter that this wasn't real blood or real people, it looked real, and it caused a very real reaction.

She tried with all her might to keep her facial features indifferent, look the part of woman in charge, but she could feel cold sweat starting to break out on her brow. Things blurred together in her field of vision, her head was spinning. She swayed, feeling like she was about to pass out, and briefly wondered if she would _ever_ manage to repair that damage to her reputation. Then suddenly, someone grabbed her by the arm.

"Miss Cullen, are you alright?"

She turned and stared right into a pair of warm brown eyes, gentle but filled with genuine concern.

"I'm fine." She struggled to remember the name of the man she had met for the first time only hours earlier. Normally she had no problem remembering names, but at the moment her mind was in complete turmoil. Thankfully it came to her before she had to ask and embarrass herself even more than she already had. "Mr Lowe. Thank you."

"Bernard." He let go of her arm, but slowly, as if he was ready to take hold of her again if she showed any signs of passing out. "You look pale. Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes," she said, a bit sharper than necessary. She turned back to the endless parade of dead hosts, when one was rolled in, in a far worse condition than the others. Theresa accidentally laid eyes on it and immediately felt the world slipping away from her. Everything was drained of its colours, and a rose of darkness was about to open in front of her eyes. She took an unsteady step to the side, but before her body went limp and she collapsed, Bernard's hands gently took hold of her and turned her away from the bloodbath.

"Breathe," he said, his voice deep and soft. "Do you need to sit down?"

Theresa nodded, giving herself up to this man, instinctively trusting him.

"Is she alright?" someone asked.

"Yeah. A bit too much of the desert sun," Bernard said. "It takes some getting used to."

"Ain't that the truth," the other guy replied, then went about his business.

"I haven't even _been_ outside," Theresa said as she sat down on a chair inside one of the control rooms.

" _I_ know that, but they don't need to," Bernard said simply. He took a good look at her, and while Theresa normally would have felt uncomfortable being under that scrutiny from a man she had just met, this felt completely natural. A kind man, in this day and age. How unusual was that?

"Was it the blood?" he asked. The question was blunt, but his voice was soft.

She was about to deny it, the last thing she needed was to get a reputation of being weak, but surrendered to the kindness in his voice. Had it been pity, she would have denied it to hell and back, would blame it on low blood sugar or whatever she could come up with, but it wasn't pity, it was kindness. Theresa normally didn't know how to react to that, but he _had_ saved her from a very humiliating situation without calling more attention to it.

"Yeah."

"I don't blame you. The body shop at the end of a loop tends to look like an ER after a horrific accident. I avoid it as far as I can."

"I think I will too, from now on."

He smiled.

"That's better. You've got some colour back. You were, sorry about the cliché, white as a sheet out there. I was worried you were going to faint."

She had to tear herself away from his eyes before she drowned in them.

"Well, thank you… Bernard. I'd better get back to work now."

"Sure. I'll see you around, Miss Cullen."

"Theresa." She dared to look him in the eye one more time. This kind of dizziness was very different and very pleasant. "I'm Theresa."

"Theresa."

The way he said her name made chills of pleasure travel up her spine. It was as if he was tasting it. Tasting _her_. Workplace romances was a thing of evil, but… even so, she might consider it.


End file.
